


More than a Glass

by ellearelene



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: DNF, Dream suddenly has an older sister, George is a bartender, M/M, This was never meant to be a fanfic heLP, dreamnotfound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29448999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellearelene/pseuds/ellearelene
Summary: Clay hates the city, but maybe there could be a reason for it to grow on him.And that reason happens to have a british accent.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 13





	More than a Glass

“You know what, change can be a good thing.” The words my older sister spoke when I informed her of my big move stuck in my head as if they were lined with superglue. For some reason, it was one of the rare things I was unable to forget, and of course, when I’m unpacking my belongings in my new apartment across the country, they had to pop into my mind. Shit like this always happens this way, as if the universe were mocking me. 

I didn’t want to move, I don’t want to be here. If I could wish for anything in the world, it would be to turn back time. Take everything, my actions, my words, I would take it all back. Life should honestly have a rewind button. I most certainly would abuse it. 

Hey loser, pick up your phone. 

The ringer my sister had made, specifically for this day, scared me out of my own thoughts. My brain was an uncontrollable place and she predicted it would end up distracting me today. Holding my phone in my head, I clicked the little green button, and lifted it to my ear. “Nice one, Alice.” She laughed for a second before resuming the previous serious tone. 

“You there yet? Yes, I’m assuming.” When I didn’t answer her she sighed. I can picture her face, with her tied up hair, in her work clothes. There's something about having to wear fancy clothes to go sit in an office all day that disgusts me. “Dude, don’t make me book a flight to go see you already. This is something you need, so hurry up and fix your sour mood.” 

“You know what, that’s a good idea. Come down to save me from oblivion.” She laughed again, for longer this time. I was tempted to hang up. 

“I can’t tell if you’re depressed, or just dramatic. Listen, hurry up and get out of your funk. Find a nice guy to sleep with or something…. Make yourself feel better.” I nearly choked. 

“Alice, I’m hanging up now, thanks.” 

“Whatever you want, dumbass. It was just a suggestion.” I never ended a call so fast in my life. It was as if she couldn’t value my feelings for the life of her. Always treating me like trash just because she’s a few years older, like that makes her more of an adult. 

Why did I bring so much shit with me? This was only a temporary thing, yet it feels as though I’ll be stuck with her for the rest of my life. Forever rotting in this small city. Guess that might be my fate. 

My phone rang again, this time it was my mom and I couldn’t hold in my groan. What is with my family and being a pain in the ass today. I pressed decline. My mother would probably just spend an hour ranting to me about my own problems as if she knows anything and everything. I need to get out of this awful building. How convenient, alcohol sounds amazing right now. 

I quickly unpacked the rest of my boxes, my livingroom a great mess, my bedroom no better. It shouldn’t matter much, since I’ll only be here for about six months, but I cannot stand the mess. 

The apartment is small, but it works for me, since I’m only one person. Plus, it has everything it needs; a kitchen. 

I almost laughed, that was so funny, ha… ha. 

There's this really run down bar down the street from my new place and I walked in with a very fake smile on my face. It’s light outside, and even if it weren’t, the mass amount of cars and buildings would hide the dark. Another thing about the city that I dislike. I like the dark, it’s comforting. When I reached the bar, the tender seemed to match my mood perfectly, like he didn’t want to be here like I don’t want to exist. Haha, what a funny joke.

“What can I get ya?” It was like his previous vibe had died, as he was now cheery, his voice upbeat and loud. “Something hard, something soft, maybe something fruity?” I was taken aback and almost walked right out. 

“Uh.. the strongest thing you have, a full glass please?” He nodded with an oddly bright smile. I sat down, holding my head with my hand. “Here you go.” The glass touched my arm, cold and indeed pretty full. 

“Thank you.” And I took the biggest sip in my life. I couldn’t look up, I do not feel like seeing another person. My throat burns…. Why did I even come here?

“Are you okay?” He sounded incredibly kind, yet my mind was still telling me he was mocking me, mocking my misery. The whole world is against my very existence, who wouldn’t mock that. He was just a bartender, he served me my very needed, very unwanted drink. He wasn’t supposed to ask me about my feelings, he wasn’t supposed to care. Yet he did. 

“I guess so. Not like I’m allowed to be otherwise.” I downed the rest of the glass, not caring about the pain my throat was being forced to endure. He didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t give two damns about me. It was most likely common courtesy. He passed me another glass, which I finished just as quickly. 

“What’s your name?” I looked up, he wasn’t smiling anymore. He was just, there, looking at me. His face was bare, not a mood placed apon it. Or maybe I just can’t see it. “You don’t have to tell me, but I was hoping to distract you from your bad mood.” He wasn’t from here… or he just wasn’t born here. His thin, but obvious british accent gave that away.

“Clay.” I took a deep breath, downing another glass of this awful alcohol. I’m no lightweight, but the man in front of me seems to be making my mind fuzzy. I should be thankful, the last thing I want to do right now is think. “What’s yours?”

“George.” 

He’s wearing a namtag, which I would’ve easily seen if I was paying enough attention. My patience for myself was running thin and now I’m fighting the urge to get up and leave. Even if I have to stumble my way home, possibly failing, it might be better than staying here, drowning both in my sorrows and drinks. “Thanks for the temporary distraction, George, but I think I should go home now. Shouldn’t even be here right now.” I couldn’t look him in the face. This man that I don’t know, that I might never see again… his opinion of me was way too important to me right now and I don’t need it. Time to go home. 

I stood, almost immediately falling back into the stool. Son of a bitch. “Maybe you should drink some water first.” For some reason I heard him, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. He repeated himself, “Would you like some water, Clay?” His voice got softer, and now I really knew what he said. I didn’t answer. 

He handed me a glass of water anyway, a frown on his face. “There’s tons of people outside, mostly people looking for money. It’s dangerous, especially since you’re so drunk.” He did sound worried, despite my thoughts repeatedly told me he didn’t give a shit about my wellbeing. 

He’s just doing you a favor, since he works here. 

If he was a stranger he wouldn’t even approach you. 

He never wanted to help, he’s forced to, its just his job.

“I’m o-” My face almost slammed onto the counter, caught by the strangers hand. “I’m okay.” 

“No, I’m not sure you are.” I fell asleep.


End file.
